


Part of You

by orphan_account



Series: the road is a long way home [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Photographer Iwaizumi Hajime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 10:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16808914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: (“why don’t you look at me, half as much as your little camera?” Oikawa had grumbled to him one night, Iwaizumi was fixated with his cloth to hear.“I don’t want it to get broken.” he answers, and Oikawa continues to grumble, unhappy with the answer he received.“The broken halves are what complete us.”)or- the photographer! Iwaizumi Au no one asked for!





	Part of You

**Author's Note:**

> there's no death in this one ;)

As a photographer, Iwaizumi can capture someone of the smallest, plainest details within his camera. With a flutter and a click, time is stopped. The dripping petals from the azaleas in the old ladies garden below their apartment, watching the purple flowers bloom throughout the year. The rolling hills, green and lucious vigorous colors that grew right behind his grandmother’s house in her hometown. Cicadas, chirping at dawn, the sun rising in the east, falling to the night in the west. The lenses of the camera were fragile, delicate. One simple scratch could ruin the whole image, a tear in the seam. So Iwaizumi treated it was gentle care, always cleaning the lens and the exterior almost every night. 

( _ “why don’t you look at me, half as much as your little camera?” Oikawa had grumbled to him one night, Iwaizumi was fixated with his cloth to hear. _

_ “I don’t want it to get broken.” he answers, and Oikawa continues to grumble, unhappy with the answer he received. _

_ “The broken halves are what complete us.”) _

There were moments were Iwaizumi had to put his camera down, and admire the beauty outside of what’s inside the little world in his head. A fresh take of air, he liked to call it. For instance, he and Oikawa were at the nearby park, watching Takeru, Oikawa’s eleven year old nephew. Oikawa insisted that they visit the nearby recreational park to revisit their old roots. He watches him from the other side, how his lips curl in a calculating smirk, how his tongue sticks out slightly when he sets the ball. The way his eyes sparkle, and dim when he’s concentrating. He curses at himself for noticing them, and Iwaizumi moves to adjust the frame around the scene, he takes so many pictures, one after the other.

“Iwa-chan, are you stalking me?” he hears in front of him, and lowers the camera. He sees Oikawa approach him, a volleyball in one hand, and other placed on his hip, cocked smugly.

“Just taking photos, don’t get that enormous head of yours.” he clicked his tongue, as Oikawa swerves around to attempt to sneak a look at the photo had just taken.

“Lemme see!” he whined, and throws his arm around his neck, radiating the sweat and heat coming from his shirt behind him. 

“Get off, your heavy.” but Oikawa pretends he doesn’t hear him, and toys with the buttons, and Iwaizumi has to indulge so he shows the photos, face burning as Oikawa has to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ every single photo he flips through.

In the middle, Oikawa suddenly turns to him, “Iwa-chan, have you ever thought about being a photographer?” he waits for him to take back his words, with a laugh and flash a peace sign telling him  _ ‘my face is too pretty for your camera to handle!’ _

But he doesn’t so he stands there surprised, open-mouthed like total idiot, and doesn’t reply.

“Would you stop standing there like a fish out water, I’m getting hungry!” he hears and Takeru waits behind them, impatient. They tear their gaze as Oikawa moves first, striding with his graceful long legs, damn him and those milky cream legs.

“Of course, who's your favorite uncle now?” Oikawa asks, ruffling the eleven year old’s head as he if he was still a child.

“Iwaizumi-senpai always.” he says deadpanned, and walks away as Iwaizumi chuckles.

“Wait for me, Takeru!”

**_________________________________**

After high school, they’re together after all. Oikawa is offered a scholarship, and Iwaizumi mindlessly follows him, like a dog on a leash. Iwaizumi knew he was good at volleyball, he was the ace after all, but he wasn’t like Oikawa. He can’t lead a team, he can’t be confident and observant. And hell, his serve could never match up to par with his, it was like a bullet. No matter where he goes, Oikawa always leaves a trail behind him. 

Oikawa studies medicine, says he wants to be a psychotherapist. While, Iwaizumi majors in photography, and minors in marketing.

( _ “are you sure that’s not too much for your brain to handle?” Oikawa had asked coyly, while they were looking over their schedules, and Iwaizumi had thrown the nearest pillow in his face, muffling the rest of his words.) _

As per asked, Iwaizumi attends every game, taking pictures, filming his deadly serves. After each set, Oikawa finds him in the crowd, and giving him a shit-eating grin, and it doesn’t affect him at first. Until after once, his team had won against a powerhouse team. The crowd was cheering and hollering over their victory. His old friends from high school, come and visit them after one of his games, they haven’t changed. Giggling and sharing jokes like kindergarteners.

Their waiting for Oikawa, as he changes, when he’s rummaging with the recent photos he’s been taking.

“You seem to take a lot of pictures.” Hanamaki whistles, glancing over his shoulder.

“I swear, my memory is gonna full of photos of the idiot.” he replies gruffly.

“Then why don’t you stop?” and Iwaizumi pauses.

He doesn’t get a chance to respond, Oikawa emerges from the locker room, freshly showered, in casual clothes.

“Makki,Mattsun!” Oikawa’s eyes light up at the sight of his best friends.

He watched as the trio envelope in an endearing hug, Iwaizumi hangs back, letting them have the time together. The bitter sweet smile flashes on Oikawa’s smile, and his hands reach for the camera, but he stops himself.

_ ‘Why don’t you stop?’ _

_ Because I can’t.  _

  
  


It was the stress, or maybe the constant competition that he caused his career to go in broken pieces. That’s what Oikawa had liked to call his tragedy, with glassy eyes and a sniffle. He’s had injuries before, broken and twisted ankles, stubbed toes. In high school, he had been close to never being able to play volleyball again, unless he treated his knee with proper care. The doctor had announced in the hospital that Oikawa’s ACL was torn, and he saw how his face paled, how he chewed the corner of his lips, nearly causing it to bleed. His hands, scurrying against each other in panic, disbelief. 

He sat in bed for the good first two weeks, living off nothing but the water from his sink and the milk bread that Iwaizumi dropped off at his door in his apartment. It was locked, and no matter what threatening gestures he threw at his friend, the door never budged. He sat in the entryway most nights, speaking to him. Talking to him about the lectures he’d had that day. Rambling about the photos he had taken in the morning. The bugs that he spotted on the sidewalk, anything that could keep talking to Oikawa.

He even told him that he loved him. It had been a month since he closed out the world; and Iwaizumi. He didn’t know what compelled him to stumble into his complex building, tipsy from drinking after a college party that his classmates had forced him to go to. The bottle of beer, loose in his hands, cheeks flush from the alcohol. It’s raining, and his jacket couldn’t be anymore soaked. He leaned against the door, it was dark outside.

“Fuck..” he whispers, setting the glass beside him. “Oikawa, come out.” he calls, and no one answers, of course he expected that reaction.

“God damn it Tooru, I need you alright.” he hears something shatter from inside but continues.

“We need each other, I know how tough it’s going to be, but hasn’t it in the past? And we got past those.”

“I love you, I’m in love with you Tooru.” he sighs, letting his head thump back against the door. Footsteps slowly hit the floor, and the door is flung open, and Iwaizumi yelps, falling back against the floor.

“What the hell-?” he starts but Oikawa stops him, eyes blurry and nose runny.

“What you said, is it true? Do you really love me?” he hovers over him, mouth trembling.

“Who else idiot?” he grouses, and the distance between them is sealed. Their lips slotted perfectly against each other, like a key fitting in it’s lock. He growls, tugging persistently on his hair, feeling the luscious brown locks wrapped around his fingers. It felt right, no it felt amazing. Kissing him, his bones ached, and his heavy heart pounded. His lips taunting and soft, and tantalizing.

“Hajime.” 

**_______________________________**

After college, Iwaizumi works for a mountain photographing company, meaning he travels all over the world. And that also means that one moment he’s gone for two weeks, and then he’s home for two days before he has to leave. Oikawa doesn’t complain, he’s too busy working ridiculous shifts at the Sendai Hospital. Sometimes, he’ll come home early morning to see that Oikawa had left, a warm omelet left in the microwave. 

If that wasn’t enough, he left him notes of the fridge whenever Iwaizumi swung it open.

_ Have a great day Iwa-chan! _

_ Roses are red, violet are blue, who do I love, only Iwa-chan! _

They were all while sappy, and totally Oikawa, he knew he meant well.

On one of his trips to Alaska, he ran into a Siberian Husky, almost malnourished to death. His supervisor allows him with certain circumstances, take it back to Japan with him, and he surprises Oikawa with it.

“Iwa-chan, what the hell have you done?” Oikawa cries out as when Iwaizumi opens the door, and the dog jumps up on him, licking his face.

“I found him in Alaska, they say a dog’s a man’s best friend.” iwaizumi finds himself nervous, when they were kids Oikawa never liked dogs, probably because they were two feet taller than him when it chased him around their old backyard. 

Then Oikawa starts bursting out laughing, peppering kisses all over it’s slobbery nose, “aren’t you a beautiful dog? welcome home Atlas.” he coos, and he smiles, bending down to pet the dog.

Atlas, he wondered where got the name from, but didn’t dare question him.

After that, they don’t see one another for weeks at time, when he has decent reception, his inbox is flooded with pictures of him and Atlas, sleeping, eating, taking walks. He takes photos of the freezing mountains, in the US. They skype almost every night, Oikawa whimpering about the recent staff drama at the hospital, and at the end of every call, they say the same thing.

“Come back Hajime.”

“Always, always Tooru.”

True to his word, he comes home after an exhausting flight, jet-lagged and stiff, welcomed with baring arms, and licks on his toes. 

Rough, hot, kisses, desperate and scrappy. As if, if they stopped, the moment would be over. They giggled, bumping their nose together.

“How was the trip?” he asked over the panting breaths, and the sound of cloth stripping from their bodies.

“Cold, tiring.” he mumbles under his breath.

They don’t talk about it, instead they do what they always do when Iwaizumi comes home.

Time was a precious thing to them.

  
  


It’s been over a year since Iwaizumi and Oikawa have been together, sharing a Iwaizumi’s rented apartment. They still fight, over stupid things that normal couples normally fight about; laundry, taking out the trash, getting up for work, usually that one takes a special amount of bribing for Oikawa to be able to wake up on time. 

It’s early in the evening, he bought ingredients at the nearest market for sukiyaki, knowing how much Oikawa had been groveling over hot pot for the last two days. He comes opens the door, and no wagging tail is there greet him.

“Tooru?” he calls out, hearing the birds chirp in the distance. He follows the noise into the bedroom. He finds him, leaning against the window still, on the bench that Oikawa had insisted he build.

_ “To watch the sunset with you, Iwa-chan!” _

He hears the crinkle of paper, and his distracted frown. And his heart drops, did something happen at work. He begins to take a step forward.

“When did you take this?” his voice trembles, uneven. Iwaizumi gets a look of what he’s talking about. The photo he had admitted in the local newspaper had been published a couple days ago, and he’d forgotten to tell him. It was a photo of Oikawa, bathed in the light, his back naked. He looked peaceful, serene, eyes closed, long eyelashes cascading on his cheekbones.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you-” he rubs the back of his head nervously. Small tears prick and slide onto the rub surface of the paper, and Oikawa smiles, a beautiful wide smile.

“This is amazing, how did you?” he stutters, and Iwaizumi takes his shaking hands.

“You looked so perfect, I know I didn’t ask but my editor loved the photo.” he says, and he nods along, staring down at the photo.

He was blabbering, he knew it, and so did Oikawa. So he shuts him up, sealing his lips with a gentle kiss to the mouth. 

“I love you so much.” he murmurs softly against his lips, and Iwaizumi curls his hand around his neck, tickling the long tendrils.

He wipes the tears away, laughing as he knocks their heads together.

_ Tooru, we have a long way ahead of us, I hope to spend it with you and for the rest of my life. _


End file.
